On A Rainy Day In London
by unionfaitlaforce
Summary: He leaned back in his seat and sighed, turning his head and glancing out the window once more. The rain was now pouring down, and the busy London streets were full of people and their colourful umbrellas. And so, as he watched the droplets slide down the glass, he suddenly remembered something. They had met on a rainy day.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes, even hardcore UsUk fans sometimes get in the mood for FrUk :3**

**Summary:****_ Wannabe author Arthur Kirkland had a tough life, and sometimes he wondered why he didn't just end it. One day, he finds out why; because otherwise he'd have never met Francis Bonnefoy, a waiter who saves Arthur from himself without even realising it. FrUk, character death._**

**Sorry if there's any mistakes in this, it wasn't proofread.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

They had met on a rainy day.

The sky was black and cloudy, the first of the thunder just beginning to appear when Arthur Kirkland entered a little café. It wasn't anything special; the building looked as though it had been forcefully shoved into the small space between the two larger buildings beside it, the shutters were falling off of the windows, and the neon 'open' sign had long since stopped working. The term "don't judge a book by its cover" worked well here, for inside, it was homelier than home; the fireplace was always lit, bringing warmth to the place; the little television in the corner was on all the time, even though nobody watched it; the employees were like family. The café had no imperfections for somebody that could see past it.

He chose a seat at a table for two. It was by a large window that had a view of the town outside, and all of the different people. He knew them and their routines so well, having lived there for so many years. There was Alfred Jones, an American businessman who stopped by the café everyday at 7 for his morning coffee, the poor Italian brothers, Feliciano and Lovino Vargas, who sold tomatoes among other homegrown vegetables at a stand on main street, and Elizaveta Héderváry, a Hungarian woman and aristocrat's wife who made a living as a dancer. They'd all gone through so much, while his life was like a book with many blank pages. Yes, he was nothing but a lonely wannabe author, trying desperately to find inspiration that he could use to make his first book a hit.

With a sigh, he brought his laptop out of his bag and placed it on the table, turning it on and opening a new Word document. He set his fingers on the keyboard, preparing to type, but only sat there, staring at the screen. No ideas came to his mind. It had all been done before! The world was already full of too many tragic romances, horrific war stories, and over-exaggerated sci-fi's. There was nothing left but clichés. It was nearly impossible to be original in today's society. He rubbed his temple; all this thinking was giving him a headache.

"_Thé, monsieur_?"

Arthur started at the sudden voice. He glanced up through his bangs into the face of a man with blue eyes and wavy blond hair that came down to his shoulders. He had a slight stubble on his chin and was wearing a white long sleeved collared shirt, with a black vest on top, as well as a bowtie and black slacks. In his hand was a notepad and he was looking at him with an expectant expression, rocking back on his heels slightly, perhaps out of boredom.

"Oh," Arthur shook his head. "No, thank you."

The man stared at him for a moment longer, raising his eyebrow, then turned and left. Arthur looked back to his laptop and, realising that he was once again not going to get any writing done, closed the document and instead opened up his email. His inbox was full of spam, other than a message from his mother to remind him that he should come and visit soon. He deleted all of the emails and went back to his desktop, clicked on the symbol for iTunes, and after plugging his earphones in, chose a song at random. The tune of Famous Last Words soon flooded his mind, and Arthur closed his eyes and leaned against the window, comforted by the music and feeling of rain pattering on the glass behind him.

He didn't know how long he sat there. It may have been a few minutes or even an hour. In fact, he might have even fallen asleep at some point, but the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, softly shaking him, caused him to open his eyes. Everything was a bit bleary but soon cleared out, and Arthur saw the waiter from before standing in front of him. The man retracted his hand, and then motioned toward the table, where there sat a steaming cup of tea.

He pulled his earphones out. "I said that I didn't want any," he told the waiter.

"_Je sais_," the man replied, then, as though on afterthought, he added. "Je m'appelle Francis."

"I'm Arthur," he replied, offering his hand, which Francis shook. The second blonde then pulled out the chair across from his and sat down. He glanced at the teacup and then Arthur, frowning. Arthur sighed and picked up the cup, taking a sip. A smug look appeared on Francis' face, but it quickly disappeared and he grew serious again. He made himself comfortable in his seat and simply watched Arthur. At this, the Brit raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to speak but Francis beat him to it.

"_Quel est le problèm_?"

"There is no problem." Arthur replied.

"_Dites-moi_."

Arthur shook his head. "What's the point? You wouldn't understand, anyway."

"_Je n'ai pas de comprendre pour écouter_."

Arthur sighed. This man wouldn't know what he's saying. He could tell him, right? He didn't have to worry about being judged; he could just let his thoughts out. He took his eyes off of Francis and instead stared into the tea in his cup. He wondered where he should begin.

"I feel useless. I have all my life. My parents preferred me over my siblings because I was a straight-A student, and because of this, they'd all gang up on me. I was beaten by my brothers at home and by my peers at school, but I kept going, because I had always hoped that one day, all of my studying would pay off and I'd get a great job, earn a lot of money.

Of course, nothing ever goes as planned. I lost my scholarship for college when I got in a huge fight, and then couldn't afford it. I was just lucky they didn't arrest me. I then lost my first job, had to move in with my girlfriend and depend on her. I felt pathetic, and she thought I was as well. I ended up going to the pub one night and got drunk out of my mind. I cheated on her and for that, she broke up with me and kicked me out. I had to go back to my parents, and they were never as disappointed in me as they were at that moment."

Arthur paused to catch his breath because he had spoken so quickly. He looked back up at Francis, surprised that he was still listening. He nodded for him to go on, and he did.

"For a while, I had to take anti-depressants, and once I was back on my feet, I decided I wanted to start all over. I moved from America and back to my hometown right here in London. I thought I'd put my literary skills to work and become an author, but I haven't been able to think of anything to write. I did get a new job, but it's as a cashier, and well... Sometimes I don't know why I keep trying."

Arthur locked eyes with Francis. "Now it's your turn," he smirked knowingly. Francis looked surprised, but Arthur could easily see the sadness in his eyes. It was impossible to miss.

"_Ce n'est rien_-" he protested. Arthur shook his head.

"Come on. It's not like I'll understand anyway, right?" he grinned.

Francis looked down with a sigh. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke. "_Parfois, je ne sais pas pourquoi je continue à essayer, que ce soit._"

Arthur frowned. He had no idea what Francis had said, but he sounded extremely depressed. He reached across the table and placed a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder. "It'll get better," he said.

After Arthur had pulled back, the two sat in silence, apart from the sound of the storm outside. From the corner of his eye, Arthur could still see busy people running about, despite the rain. They carried colourful umbrellas, the only colour in the black and white world outside, except for a couple who ran laughing together in the rain, hand in hand. He finished his tea and placed the cup on the table, putting his computer back in his bag afterwards. He then pulled out his wallet, reaching in and taking out £5. He handed it to Francis, but he pushed it back.

"_Non, il n'est pas néscessaire_."

Arthur sent him a questioning look, but never received an explanation as Francis gathered up the empty cup and returned to the café's kitchen without another word. He shrugged to himself and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and left the café.

* * *

**Translations:**

**_Thé, monsieur? ... Tea, Mr?_**

**_Je sais ... I know_**

**_Je m'appelle Francis ... I'm Francis_**

**_Quel est le problèm? ... What is the problem?_**

**_Dites-moi ... Tell me_**

**_Je n'ai pas de comprendre pour écouter ... I don't have to understand to listen_**

**_Ce n'est rien- ... There is nothing-_**

**_Parfois, je ne sais pas pourquoi je continue à essayer, que ce soit ... Sometimes I don't know why I continue to try, either_**

**_Non, il n'est pas néscessaire ... No, it's not necessary_**

**I apologise if anything Francis says is hard to understand, or if it doesn't make sense if you do speak French. Google Translate and my limited French knowledge isn't that good :3**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story. I know that it takes me long to update, but I will surely update this every single day! I can guarantee it! :D**

**Review please~**


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, Arthur was walking through the park when he ran into Francis again. The blonde was sitting on the edge of the dock, his legs hanging off and in the water as he tossed bread to ducks and swans. Arthur hesitated, but then approached. He stood behind Francis, and when he realised that he still wasn't noticed, he spoke.

"Hello, Francis."

Francis glanced over his shoulder, surprised. "_Bonjour Arthur, comment ca va_?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm well. You?"

"_Comme ci comme ça_."

Arthur looked out at the water. The sun was setting, causing the clouds that remained to look as though they were in flames. The lake was a red-orange colour and it was truly peaceful, with no sounds but the ducks quacking. The trees and boats that could be seen on the horizon were nothing more than black silhouettes. It was one of those sights that made you realise what the point of living was, because even when things seem to be coming to an end, you know that the sun will only rise again.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Arthur murmured.

Francis followed Arthur's gaze. "_Oui, il est tres beau. Il y avait toujours des couchers de soleil comme celcui-ci de retour à Paris_."

Arthur didn't answer, not knowing what Francis had said, but he found that it didn't matter since the blonde was too busy watching the sun to take notice of any reply, anyway. Arthur took a seat next to Francis, pulling off his shoes and dipping his feet in the water as well. They sat there for the rest of the evening, feeding the ducks and making idle chatter. They could barely understand each other, but for some reason, not one of them cared.

Francis suddenly turned to face him. "_Arthur, je veux que vous apprenez-moi à parler anglais_."

"You want me to teach you to speak English?" Arthur asked in confusion. Francis nodded.

"Hm, alright. Now... Where to begin... Repeat after me: hello, my name is Francis."

"'ello, my name ees Francis..."

* * *

It wasn't until a week after that, that Arthur and Francis spoke once more. Arthur approached the small café, saying a quick greeting to Elizaveta on the way. He pushed open the door, which caused the bell above it to ding, signalling his arrival. He went to a table and pulled out his laptop, opening a Word document and starting to type. He had finally begun his first book, in which the female protagonist, Alice, accidently runs into a stranger, who, without realising it, saves her from herself. He didn't know where he got the idea, but it worked out well.

"_Thé, monsieur_?"

Arthur looked up and smiled slightly. "No, thank you, Francis."

Francis turned and went back to the kitchen. Arthur knew that he was going to go get tea. He shook his head and continued to type while waiting for the Frenchman to return, and when he did, with two cups of tea instead of one, Arthur shut his laptop and the two of them talked for a short while before Arthur again decided to help Francis with his English.

"Okay, now it's your turn. Say something about yourself."

Francis hesitated. "I… I 'ave _un_ bird."

Arthur nodded. "Good, good, you're getting better. What's his name?"

"'is name is Pierre."

"Interesting. I have a cat named Merlin."

"Like the wizard."

Arthur chuckled. "Yes, like the wizard."

At that moment, Arthur had decided that he was going to come visit the little café more often, and that was just what he did. Every day for the next month or two, and each time, Francis would come and ask him the same question, "Thé, monsieur?" Arthur would always refuse, and then Francis would bring the tea anyway. Francis would get better at speaking English, and they'd talk about nothing in particular while Arthur got closer to finishing his book. It was a routine that he'd gotten used to, but of course, one day things went differently.

Arthur shut his laptop when he saw Francis coming with the tea. The Frenchman took the seat across from him and handed Arthur his cup, which he took. The first thing Arthur noticed that was off was the fact that Francis looked different. His clothes appeared crumpled and as though he'd put them on messily in a rush. His hair was frizzy and he had slight bags under his eyes, which had the same depressed look that had always been there, but more so. Arthur raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asked instead.

"I 'ave been making a bucket list." Francis had told him.

"A bucket list? What for?"

Francis shrugged. "I just wanted to list everything that I want to do."

"Huh," now he was getting curious. "Like what?"

"Well…" Francis looked down. "I've always wanted to go to the French restaurant that's not far from 'ere."

"Oh? I've never heard of it."

"I was wondering if, perhaps… You'd like to go with me?"

Arthur's eyes widened, but he tried not to act too surprised. Was Francis asking him on a date? He wasn't sure if he could accept something like that, after all, he'd only ever dated girls before. He was going to have to reject him.

"Uh… A-Alright."

He suddenly realised what he'd said. Why did he accept? It had just slipped out! No… This was wrong. He was about to refuse, when he saw the relieved look that appeared on Francis' face. Somehow, that made it all okay.

* * *

**Translations:**

**_Bonjour Arthur, comment ca va? ... Hello Arthur, how are you?_**

**___Comme ci comme ça ... So-so_**

**_Oui, il est tres beau. Il y avait toujours des couchers de soleil comme celcui-ci de retour à Paris ... Yes, it is very beautiful. We'd always have sunsets like these back in Paris_**

**___Arthur, je veux que vous apprenez-moi à parler anglais ... Arthur, I want you to teach me to speak English_**

**_____Thé, monsieur? ... Tea, Mr?_**

**_____Un ... A_**

**Once again, I'm sorry if the translations aren't perfect. Google Translate isn't very good.. =P**

**Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

They had decided to go to the restaurant the next Friday, after Francis had got off work. They met up outside the café and got into Francis' car, not talking much during the entire half hour ride. It was only once they arrived that Francis broke the silence.

"We are 'ere," he said, stepping out of the car. Arthur followed suit, closing the door and walking around the car to stand next to Francis. He glanced up at the restaurant. It was a large, fancy-looking building, with big glass windows that showed off the interior. There were fountains and chandeliers and even from where they were standing, Arthur could hear the live music playing from inside.

"_Le grand fromage_." Francis read the flashy sign that stood next to the double doors.

"Sounds romantic." Arthur murmured, confused but not wanting to stay quiet. Francis cast him a glance and then laughed, which only added to Arthur's confusion.

"What?" he questioned.

"Nothing, nothing." Francis waved it off. "Come, let's go inside."

They entered the restaurant, and inside it wasn't hard to tell that it was most likely five-stars. It was absolutely beautiful. In the centre of it all, there was a small, round stage where a man was playing the piano. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair was sitting on the edge of it, singing into a microphone in her hand. Around the stage, there were tables, each set with expensive silverware and with a burning candle in the middle of it. A man with long, wavy blonde hair that had an odd curl in the front approached them. He lifted his white gloved hand and pushed up the glasses that were falling down his nose, before saying in a soft voice, "_Bonjour_. I'm Mathieu, and I'll be your server this evening. Come, I'll lead you to your table."

Arthur and Francis followed the violet-eyed blonde and took a seat at the table he directed them to. It was near the stage, so they could clearly hear the woman singing a song in French. Mathieu poured them each a glass of wine and then handed them their menus. Arthur tried to read his but felt awkward with Mathieu floating around them the entire time. He'd never been on a date with another male, especially not at an expensive restaurant with a waiter who wouldn't leave him alone.

Mathieu pulled out a napkin from seemingly nowhere and stuck it into the collar of Arthur's shirt. Arthur was about to protest, saying that he could do it himself, but was cut off.

"If you take a look at your menus, I think you will see that we offer a large variety of fine cuisine to choose from." Mathieu spoke quickly. "Personally, I recommend_ le lamb navarin_ as a starter, and then some_ coq au vin_; it is absolutely exquisite tonight. Then, if you're still hungry, we have fine_ ratatouille_ and _steak tartare_. For dessert, tonight we are serving_ Coeur à la crème_ with caramelised strawberries, as well as_ raspberry brûlée_-"

"_Mathieu_." Francis muttered in annoyance.

_"Oui, cousin_?" Mathieu asked as he clasped his hands together, looking at Francis expectantly.

"_Fermes la bouche._"

Mathieu nodded his head rapidly and scurried off, bumping into another waiter in the process and spilling wine all over himself. He then retreated into what Arthur guessed was the kitchen. Arthur sighed and shook his head. This was all overwhelming. He didn't know how he'd be able to survive the night.

They ordered their food a short while later and ate relatively quickly once they had received it. It was delicious, but Arthur thought that it'd never amount to British food. Of course, he didn't voice his thoughts aloud. When it was time to leave, it was near midnight. Arthur wanted to pay for his meal but Francis insisted that he would. They left the restaurant and were walking through the parking lot, back to the car, when Arthur noticed a light from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and grinned, stopping Francis and turning him around.

"That's the London Eye," he told him, pointing. "The largest Ferris wheel in Europe."

"It looks amazing when lit up like that." Francis said in awe.

Arthur nodded. "How about we go on it?"

"This late?" Francis said unsurely.

"Yes," Arthur replied, already pulling him towards it. "How many times do you get the chance to do something like this?"

"Not many, I suppose." Francis murmured. "All right, let's go," and they set off running towards the Ferris wheel. Arthur felt Francis slip his hand into his, and normally he wouldn't have allowed it, but at the moment it just felt right.

They soon reached the London Eye and got their tickets, and were seated soon after. They sat next to each other and watched the view of the city as they were lifted into the sky. Arthur felt as though they were on top of the world. There was nothing around them but the endless stars and he felt frozen in the moment. It was like time had really stopped. Francis placed his hand on Arthur's and the Brit turned to face him with a surprised look.

The Ferris wheel stopped once they were at the top. He heard a faint 'pop' from below, and moments later fireworks appeared all around them. A wide array of colour filled the black sky, and as Francis leaned forward, he whispered so quietly, nervously, that Arthur had to strain to hear, but he made out the words as clear as day.

"I love you," Francis said.

"_Je t'aime_," he replied.

And then their lips met for the first time, and the fireworks that went off at that were even brighter than the ones in the background.

* * *

**Translations:**

_**Le grand fromage ... The big cheese**_

_**Bonjour ... Hello**_

_**Le lamb navarin ... The lamb stew**_

_**Coq au vin ... Chicken with wine**_

_**Coeur à la crème ... Cream heart**_

_**Oui, cousin? ... Yes, cousin?**_

_**Fermer la bouche ... Shut your mouth**_

_**J t'aime ... I love you**_

**Woo! I'm doing an epic job with keeping my promise to update this, huh? xD Thanks so much to everyone who's followed/favourited this story, and a special shoutout to my reviewers Angelsorcerer, BritishTraveller, Polinia, and Shado Room of Souls! You guys are all awesome!**

**And Shado, to answer your question, well Francis is now living somewhere that they speak English, so obviously he'd pick some of it up, but Arthur has never been anywhere French so of course he wouldn't be used to it very much, only some very simple things ^-^ Hope that clears it up!**

**Please review~**


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur awoke to the sound of birds chirping. He slowly opened his eyes and was surprised to see the sun shining brightly down on him. Upon further inspection, he realised that he was not at home in bed, but lying on the grass outside. Then memories of the previous night flooded his mind and he remembered how when they'd gotten off the London Eye, they collapsed onto the ground and just stared at the stars. They'd fallen asleep in that very spot, wrapped in each other's arms. Speaking of which…

He turned his head and looked over at Francis, who appeared to still be asleep. He placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him. Francis' blue eyes slowly fluttered open and he seemed confused, before he glanced up at Arthur.

"Oh, good morning," he murmured sleepily.

"Yeah, good morning." Arthur shook his head, swatting an insect off of his arm. Francis chuckled and sat up, glancing around before he suddenly turned to Arthur.

"Let's go to the pub," he said.

"What?" Arthur looked over at him with wide eyes. "You're crazy."

"No, I'm serious. Let's go."

Arthur searched for an excuse. "I have to work, and so do you."

Francis shrugged. "We're already late."

"It's barely noon, Francis. I'm not a drunkard."

Francis stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. "'ow many times do you get the chance to do something like this?" he mimicked Arthur's words from the previous night.

Arthur sighed. "Alright, fine. You got me there. Let's go."

* * *

They arrived at the pub a short while later. It was a place that Arthur knew well, for he'd always used to visit it in his spare time. It was called Happy Hour, and was a rundown old place. Some of the windows had to be boarded up because the owner couldn't afford to replace the smashed glass, and inside, there were so many stains on the carpet and walls that Arthur was afraid of finding out what they were all from.

Francis walked towards the billiards table that sat across from the bar. Arthur followed him, trying to ignore the barkeeper's loud shouts of, "Come on people! Awesome deals offered only today by the awesome me!"

"You want to play billiards?" Arthur asked in confusion.

Francis appeared thoughtful. "Well, I've never done so before, so-"

"Oi!"

Arthur groaned as he and Francis turned to face the obnoxious barkeeper. The man had snow-white hair, crimson eyes, and was wearing a white tee-shirt and black pants with suspenders. He smirked cockily as he leaned against the bar.

"Hit a bullseye and get a free shot," he challenged.

Arthur looked over at Francis, who now wore a determined look on his face. "Are you going to try?" he asked. The Frenchman nodded. He walked over to the dartboard that hung on the wall near the billiards table and plucked the darts out, walking back to stand next to Arthur afterwards. He poked the tip of the dart experimentally, pulling his finger back when a speck of red appeared on it. He then pulled his arm back, readied himself, and threw the dart.

He missed.

The barkeeper cackled in the background. Francis rolled his eyes and concentrated on the dartboard again. He got another dart and threw it, missing once more.

"Come on, you can do it." Arthur tried to encourage. Francis nodded. He got the last dart, pointing it towards the board, and squeezed his eyes shut. He threw the dart, and went he heard the sound of it hitting the board, he asked Arthur, "What is it?"

Arthur grinned. "Bullseye."

* * *

Arthur walked into the café, seeing that Francis was already seated at the table with their cups of tea. He sat down across from him, a curious look on his face.

"Francis, what's up?"

Francis glanced up. "Oh, I was just waiting for you," he said.

Arthur pulled his laptop out of his bag and set it on the table, turning it on. Soon, what he had written so far had appeared on the screen. He wasn't sure where he'd gotten the ideas, but whenever he read over his work he got a feeling of déjà vu. In the last chapter, Alice and the stranger, Oliver, had admitted their love for each other. He thought that his book was going well so far, but something still seemed off. The names, maybe. They just didn't seem to work.

"You know," Arthur murmured, not taking his eyes off of the screen. "You never did tell me what was bothering you."

Francis sighed. "I suppose now's as good a time as ever, yes?"

Arthur nodded.

"Well… There's really not much to it. It's simple, really, not as interesting as you may think. Back when I lived in Paris, I was in love with this wonderful girl named Jeanne. She was my entire life, and I always thought that we'd be together forever." Francis chuckled bitterly. "What I fool I was. I asked her to marry me, and she accepted. I didn't think it was possible to be 'appier. 'owever, she was killed in a fire. On the night before our wedding, too."

Arthur looked up. "Oh… I'm so sorry."

Francis shook his head. "After that, I knew that I needed to get away, so I moved to London. Sometimes I wonder if Jeanne is still watching over me. She'd still be 'ere if it wasn't for me, you know. She thought someone was after 'er and wanted me to stay with 'er, but of course, I didn't believe it. If I 'ad just let 'er come to my 'ouse, then she'd never 'ave died. I still blame myself for it."

Arthur felt a pang in his heart when he heard Francis talk about Jeanne so fondly, but he still managed a sad smile. "I'm sure she's still watching over you, Francis, and I bet she's very proud of you for being able to stay so strong even after what happened. Not many people can do that. It's amazing, really." Francis glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"Well…" Arthur looked down, feeling his face grow hot from embarrassment. "You may not realise it, but you really saved me. I've often wondered whether I should just kill myself, but all those thoughts went away after I had met you. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you, having to go through that alone, and I wish that I could say something to help. I'd just like you to know that I'm truly grateful for what you've done for me. I might not have been here today if it weren't for you."

He looked back up at Francis shyly. The Frenchman seemed surprised at his confession, staring at him with wide blue eyes. After a moment, he spoke. "You wish you could say something to 'elp?" he questioned. "You just did, Arthur."

"What?"

"No one's ever said anything like that to me before."

Arthur chuckled. "Really? Well, they should have. You truly are an amazing person."

Francis shook his head as he stood up, collecting the teacups that they'd drunk from while speaking. He turned to walk back to the kitchen, calling one more thing over his shoulder. "Thank you, Arthur."

* * *

After he'd typed some more of his book, Arthur packed up his laptop and was about to leave the café when he noticed something on the floor. It was a light pink slip of paper ripped out from a notebook, with red and black roses doodled on it in pen. Curious, he picked it up and opened it on his way out the door, scanning his gaze over the words.

It was a messy combination of both French and English, the words almost unreadable for they looked as though they'd each been added at odd, inconvenient hours of the day. But from what he was able to make out, Arthur could easily tell what the note was; Francis' bucket list.

_ - Meet someone new_

_ - Watch the sunset with someone special_

_ - Learn to speak English_

_ - Go to a restaurant_

_ - Watch fireworks from the top of a Ferris wheel_

_ - Kiss someone_

_ - Sleep under the stars_

_ - Hit a bullseye on a dartboard_

_ - Tell my life story_

_ - Make a difference in someone's life_

_ - Go out happy, so I'll never have to feel sadness again_

Each line, written in fancy, cursive script had a checkmark beside it, except for the last one. Arthur frowned and folded the paper, sticking it in his pocket. He'd give it back to Francis the next time he saw him. Right now, he had to go home and write the final two chapters of his book.

* * *

**One or two more chapters left! Thank you to all who cared to read this far, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!**

**Please review~**


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur walked into the café that he'd grown to love so much over the past few months. The sky was black and cloudy as he slipped through the doorway, in his hand a finished manuscript that he couldn't wait to send off to a publisher. Alice and Oliver had ended up getting married, and the book had a fairytale ending. He went to his usual table by the window, out of the corner of his eye seeing Alfred and the Vargas brothers and Elizaveta. He gave them each a small wave with his free hand as he placed the manuscript on the table. He pulled his laptop out of his bag, more on instinct than anything; he'd gotten so used to it. Having nothing better to do, he opened up his email, deleting the usual spam and messages from his mother. There was one different email this time, and he opened it, quickly reading the message from an interested publisher. With a small smile, he typed back a reply, only half-focused on the task as he listened for the usual, "_Thé, monsieur?_"

However, it never came.

After sending off his email, Arthur looked around the café. There weren't many people in today, so it didn't make sense that Francis hadn't come to him yet. Perhaps he was sick? Arthur decided he'd wait a little longer, and instead opened up the document with his story. It still didn't seem right, but why, he didn't know. He was about to try and make a few changes when he was interrupted by a French-accented voice. The problem was, it was female.

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

Arthur looked up to see a woman with long, brown hair tied in pigtails by red ribbons. She had brown eyes and was wearing a female version of Francis' waiter outfit. She closed her eyes, tipping her head to the side and smiling sweetly at him as she waited for his order.

"No thanks but… Isn't Francis in today?"

She frowned. "Oh…No, he isn't. I'm sorry."

Now Arthur was frowning as well. "There's no need to apologise. Is he sick?"

"No."

"Then why-"

"Francis quit," she blurted out.

"What?" Arthur tensed. He had no idea why, but he had a bad feeling about this. Why would Francis quit without even mentioning it, and so suddenly too? He asked the girl this, and she crossed her arms, looking down at the ground and seeming to be uncomfortable. After a moment, she straightened up and met his gaze again.

She lifted her hand up and ran her pointer finger across her throat. "I mean, he _quit_."

And that was when Arthur's world came crashing down.

"W-What?" was all he managed to get out.

She sighed. "You must be Arthur Kirkland, right? Here," she handed him a sealed envelope. "That's for you."

The girl left after that, and Arthur, with shaking hands, tore the envelope open. He quickly pulled out the piece of paper inside and unfolded it, feeling his eyes water as he read its contents.

_Arthur, _

_ Mon cher, I'd like to thank you once more. You've made these past few months worthwhile, but I just couldn't go on. It was bound to happen eventually, but you know what? I'm glad. I'm finally free from the guilty thoughts that'd haunt me day in and day out. I'm finally happy, Arthur. At long last. Thank you. Thank you so very much._

_ Francis Bonnefoy._

The letter fell from his hands. He took in a shaky breath, trying to keep calm, but a sob managed to escape him. He buried his face in his hands and tried to wipe the tears away, wiping his wet hands off on his pants afterwards. He glanced at the screen of his laptop with blurry eyes, and after a moment, starting typing. Oliver disappeared. He became Francis, and the fairytale ending was no more. The story became one of death and tragedy, ending in Alice alone, once more searching for a point to live. He scrapped the previous manuscript and looked over the new one, blinking away the tears that were still there. Now, it was perfect.

But it was still missing something. At the end, he added a little author's note, hoping that it'd help those who cared to read it.

He leaned back in his seat and sighed, turning his head and glancing out the window once more. The rain was now pouring down, and the busy London streets were full of people and their colourful umbrellas. And so, as he watched the droplets slide down the glass, he suddenly remembered something.

They had met on a rainy day.

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**Translations:**

_**Thé, monsieur? ... Tea, Mr?**_

_**Mon cher ... My dear**_

**Last chapter! Sorry it's the shortest one.. I hope you've all liked this story, and if anyone's interested, I'll upload Arthur's note tomorrow :3**

**Thanks to everyone who's favourited/followed/reviewed!**

**Please review~**


	6. Arthur's Note

_First of all, I'd like to thank anyone who had taken the time to read this story from cover to cover. I hope it's taught us all a little something, because for me, it surely did. I've realised that things have to get worse before they can get better, and sometimes, helping someone will really help you. This story changed my life, which is why I'm proud to say that it's based on true events. The good always die first, don't they? Our time is limited, so we should all go out and spend it well. Don't just survive; live. There's a large difference. So, as I check 'write a book' off of my very own bucket list, I hope you decide to go out and do the same. You can start by meeting someone new. Change a life, and earn a lifetime of happiness in return. Go out with a smile on your face. Now's the end of that. Live your life to its full potential. You won't be hearing from me again._

_ Arthur Kirkland._

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**Welp, it's officially over, guys! As always, I'd like to thank everyone who'd reviewed/followed/favourited, and even those who had only read it. I hope you've all liked it and will read anything I write in the future! What kind of story would you like to see next? UsUk, Spamano, GerIta, etc? Themes, too; I need some good ideas to inspire me! xD I've been thinking about two Christmas one-shots, one being FrUk and the other UsUk, so stay tuned and we'll see if I'll actually manage it!**

**Please review~ All your ideas help, and any feedback on this story would be lovely!**

**Hasta-la-pasta, Hetalians!**


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